Of Nightmares and Consulting Detectives
by The One with Purple Headphones
Summary: A series of 100 word one-shots based around John Watson, after Sherlock's fall. I am happy to except prompts. Warnings for feels and sad John.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This has been floating around in my head for ages, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any prompts you would like to see me use leave a suggestion and I will try to use it (fingers crossed). The story itself is 100 words not including this or the title.**

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Chapter 1- The First Night

The first night was the easiest.

He could still pretend that it had never happened. He could still pretend that Sherlock would appear in the room at any minute, running in yelling wildly about some case or another.

Yes, the first night was the easiest. When Sherlock's closest friends sat vigil in 221b. Their eyes were red raw and too dry to weep. Hands were joined and fingers gripped on for dear life. Souls searched for comfort in others whilst their bodies demanded sleep. Not that anyone could, or tried.

But, that was before they left John Watson to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This has been floating around on my desktop for a while so I decided it was time to upload it. There was no prompt for this, it was just something that I wanted to write. Enjoy.**

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Moustache

John Watson's life lacked control. He had no control over Sherlock when he fell, no control after the fall and most of all no control over himself.

He needed something that could he decide on and that he could have control over. So he moved. He moved away from 221B. A fresh start was all he needed.

But John still didn't feel like he had moved on. The face in the mirror was proof of that. So he stopped shaving. It showed the world he had changed and was ready to move on. The world did not see that though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: So... this kinda got away from me and became a bit of a poem. Weird... Anyway this is mostly based on my own experiences of waking up in the middle of the night when I was younger. Enjoy!**

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Insomnia

He tossed and turned but the surrounding shadows closed in like enemies waiting to pounce. The dresser sat menacingly in the corner like a crouched assassin, covered in the shards of broken silence.

When did the night become so long?

The hours between 3am and 4 stretched out into never ending darkness. A single human heartbeat pulsed in and out of the darkness. It was his like the rasping breath.

A sudden horror filled his chest. Hot panic invaded his mind. The darkness seemed to conceal a specter. Were those it's lamplike eyes?

Light penetrated the room. Dawn.

John's savior.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Am I completely alone in the universe? Are you, the person reading this that is, just a figment in my imagination? I guess nothing really ****matters anymore.**

** Sorry... started to ramble there... Enjoy.**

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Good Dreams

John wished he would never wake up sometimes. To get away from this sorry existence that was his life. To stay submerged in a dream.

Anything would be better.

A world where John was in charge and where it was just them against the world again.

A world where he could simply lift a hand and Sherlock would stop falling. Where the world would stop turning and they could be together in a single moment that lasted forever.

Anything would be better.

Better than this lonely existence, feeling like a stranger in his own body.

Anything would be better.


	5. A Small Nothing

**Author's Note: Sorry, it's been a while hasn't it? **

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A Small Nothing

When Sherlock died nothing happened. Of course Sherlock's death happened, but that was it.

There was no great fanfare of trumpets, serenading a soul to the afterlife. There was no feeling of something lost. No sudden pang of regret felt mysteriously across the whole world by every inhabitant.

Just a small nothing.

And it hit John like a brick wall.

It made him fall clutching desperately for a raft in the chaos. He hit the shiny hospital floor with a thump. The buckles on his coat making an unpleasant rasp as he slid down.

It was just a small nothing.


End file.
